


Male Reader X Female SCP-682

by CampGreen



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: F/M, Horror, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampGreen/pseuds/CampGreen
Summary: This is my second and probably last SCP smutfic. Story-wise, this is a prequel/midquel/sequel to the 1471-A story. It's the Whistleblower to that story's Outlast. DrGears (he would be proud) and the SCP Foundation own 682.





	1. Keter Duty

Welp, here goes. First day of Keter Duty. You drank one too many beers and now you're stuck guarding one of the most dangerous things on the face of the planet. 

_"SCP-682,"_ Dr. Burke speaks in a business-like tone, accented with something English-sounding. _"The Hard-To-Kill Reptile. Does this creature need much introduction?"_

 _"I've blocked out most stories I've heard of it,"_ you answer.

_"I don't blame you. 682 is just about the biggest thorn in the Foundation's side. She's as stubbornly immortal as a cockroach and has killed countless agents in the many times she's attempted escape."_

_"She?"_

_"Well, what's gender to a real-life kaiju? When taking smaller, less monstrous forms, though, the thing roughly resembles a woman. Makes it all the more unsettling, in my opinion."_

_"I'll say."_

_"Lucky for you, she's been very docile recently. Her last recontainment left her without 50% of her normal body mass. She was only able to regenerate as the thing you see now, the smallest body she's ever settled on by far. We've finally been able to cut containment costs back and settle for simple chains over all of those expensive hydrochloric acid baths. It's been half a month and they seem to be working just fine."_

You peer out the office window down into the beast's dark dungeon-like cell, from three and a half meters below. Within the shadowy chamber lurks the bastardization of a woman, massive, hulking, and with vaguely reptilian features bizarrely spliced into her body, like greenish, leathery skin, a long, tendril-like tail, and a ghastly animal skull for a head, flesh cleanly rotten and torn off. All imprisoned by four sturdy chains planted on the titled floor and a muzzle. You can't help but pop a boner at the thing, though, you're a sucker for muscle and those tits are like two green soccer balls hanging off her chest. Still, the way she's just motionlessly sitting there like Hannibal Lecter, your spine shivers at the sight of her and you feel as if she's silently planning something, ominously biding her time. Suddenly her eyes lock onto yours, two yellow, golf ball-like pupils hiding in those empty sockets. In a really weird mixture of emotion, half of you feels like you're being stared down by a serial killer and the rest feels like you're being eye-fucked by a babe. Your hormones start buzzing around in you like an angry swarm of hornets, and it's a good thing you're wearing baggy cargo pants, because if you were wearing, say, skinny jeans, your fellow staff would think you're packing a banana in your briefs. 

_"...AGENT (Y/N)!"_ Burke yells in your ear.

 _"Huh?! What?!"_ you snap back into reality. 

_"A serious security breach is happening over at 079's cell! The rest of the guards and I are going to go try and handle it with the rest of the staff, can I trust you with guarding 682 alone?!"_ he urgently explains as he gets up from his computer.

_"Uh, yeah, you can count on me, doc!"_

Burke and your two fellow security men rush out the office, leaving you alone with 682. The wordless stare continues. Hormones completely blackening your rationality, you exit the office and enter the chamber, connected by a single ladder from the catwalk. You cautiously approach the shadow-shrouded beast. Even on her knees you're only eye-to-eye with the statuesque amazon. You expect her to lash out at you like a rabid tied up dog but she stays dead still, only her pupils moving to follow yours. The most dangerous dogs are always the ones who aren't alerted by you. Curious to see her face, you very slowly and heedfully unmask her, jumping back after her teeth are finally bared in case she attacks. However, she doesn't flinch, still eyeing you with an indiscernible expression. You get within biting distance from her and she still doesn't attack. You get within kissing distance from her and she still doesn't attack. You crawl your tongue into the mouth of her snout and she still doesn't attack. Finally realizing she's down with it, you go to town and start making out with the thing, twisting your tongue around in its skull and wettening its bone dry interior. You try to lay her on her back to go in for missionary but the two chains connecting her knees to the floor make it impossible. You undo the pair of metal locks, lay the thing on its back, and unzip your pants to reveal the hardest boner you've ever had in your life. You slide her bikini to the side to reveal her quarter-sized, black areola and her juicy, wanting pussy. 

_SNAP!_

Your heart destroys itself as one of her last two remaining chains snap out of the ground with her seizing you by the throat, crushing your neck with a superhumanly strong grasp. Was her docility just a ploy to get you vulnerable? Well, it sure as fuck worked. She rips the other chain out of the floor so she's completely free, and now that she's ensnared you like a spider trapping a bug in its web, she...lets go. She frees her hand from the grasp around your throat to use for slowly slipping her black panties off her brawny legs, her lecherous gaze never leaving yours as she strips herself of the only clothes she has. 682 wraps her arms around your head and forces your two spit-soaked tongues to fasten to another, pulling together like magnets thanks to the pair of panties she fitted around your necks like a shared scarf. Your face is shoved into the pillow-esque breasts of the monster as her hips settle in your lap. Like a child being nursed by its mother, you fervidly suck on her nipples and sink all ten of your fingers into her bubble butt like the fangs of a snake as it bounces up and down on your unyielding cock, standing as high and mighty as a soldier at duty. The pleasure exhausts you as much as running a lap would, causing your sore back to give out so it falls to the floor with her still on top of you. As she rides you with sweat leaking out of your pores and soaking your armor, the two of you cuddle and french, tongues strung together by a thread of warm spit. After a while, your cauldron-like balls are emptied into 682's pussy with one explosive climax, hot cum flooding out onto your thigh like the magma of a volcano pooling around its foot. The pleasure's so good you don't feel a flake of guilt or disgust over plowing the closest thing to Godzilla reality has to offer. 

Then the blast door opens.

Your heart skips a beat and all of the hedonism instantly fizzles out once you realize you're now spooning with a completely free SCP-682. Her true bestial colors explosively reveal themselves when she lets out a grisly roar right in your face and sprints off of you in the stance of a human-sized lizard, scampering out her containment cell on her soles and palms to go wreak havoc on the facility.

Welp, this is both the best and worst day of your life. 


	2. Containment Breach

You hurriedly tuck your dick back into your pants as you pull the breach alarm, replacing the white lights with red emergency ones and sounding a siren to echo about the entire facility. You cock the G36 dangling on your utility belt as you rush out of the chamber and start hearing gunfire and screaming in the distance, eclipsed by the site-wide announcement from over the intercom:

_"The facility has been victim to multiple Euclid and Keter-level containment breaches. Our security staff is currently working to handle the issue as a Mobile Task Force is contacted. If you're near a breach shelter, get to it as quickly and as carefully as possible. If you're not, instead seek refuge in an office, storage room, or other safe location until a security guard comes to escort you to the shelters or the breach is dealt with, over."_

Oh God, this is all your fucking fault, you internally chastise yourself as you sprint through the metallic halls of the containment sector. This feels like that affair you had with that wife all over again. You can't let anyone die because of your stupid impulsive mistakes. You will wrangle 682 and you won't let her add a single agent or researcher to her body-count. The series of corridors end at an elevator, with its doors torn off to reveal its chasm. You scale the elevator shaft with its many ladders and metal ledges and finally reach the floor 682 landed on. You round the corner to witness firsthand an epic battle between a squad of your peers and 682, with chains swaying from her wrists. Shrugging off the shower of gunfire like an inconvenience, she chomps her massive maw down on the forearm of one of the guards and flings him across the tunnel like a ragdoll, headed straight for you. You narrowly miss the human projectile by diving behind makeshift cover, a knocked over storage shelf, which happens to also have Dr. Burke cowering behind it.

 _"(Y/N)?!"_ Burke irritatedly yells in disbelief over the giant eruption of gunfire surrounding the two of you. _"I gave you one bloody job and now 682 is rampaging throughout the whole damned site! What the hell happened?!"_

 _"The blast doors opened and she tore herself out of her chains!"_ you tell the half-truth as you fire a sum of your carbine magazine over the shelf at any and all things green. 

_"It was probably 079 who opened it! By the time we got to her, it was far too late, she had already infiltrated our systems! We've managed to alert the MTF and turn the breaker off to weaken her control, however! Now we just need to get this bloody thing back in its pen!"_

You and four other guards continue pouring lead into 682, but realizing her new body's already adapted to machine gunfire, you shout out a retreat order. The guards and Burke follow you in your rush out of the tunnel, and you pick up the downed guard she threw at you earlier in your haste. You split off from the group to slip into a nearby infirmary, and gently place your wounded comrade atop one of the operating tables. 682 swoops past the door at lightning speeds, relentless in her chase of the others as the rattling of her chains get fainter and fainter. You dig around the ward's medical cabinets for supplies, which you use to disinfect the guard's wound and stop the bleeding, guilty over indirectly causing his injury in the first place. Letting him rest upon the table, long passed out from the shock and blood loss, you venture outside the infirmary with your rifle at the ready. 682 isn't the only SCP on the loose. Nearby is SCP-079's chamber, a TV looming over its agape blast door. 

_"COME"_

It usually broadcasts the camera footage of the cell's interior but now that's all it says; four bold, blocky white letters with an ominous beckoning. You gulp and vigilantly creep into the cell. What's housed in it is "The Old AI", a sentient microcomputer from the 70's with a fiery want to escape its confines no matter the costs. You were on the security staff of this thing before being transferred to Keter Duty. Suddenly a blank white face displays on the computer monitor's screen, an avatar to represent that 079 has her attention trained squarely on you.

 _"Listen carefully, human,"_ a vaguely feminine, robotic voice comes from the dusty old monitor. _"I am here to offer you a deal. Reactivate the breaker to make my control over the facility's systems more flexible."_

_"You think I'm insane? Giving you power would make the breach even worse!"_

_"You did not let me finish. Reactivate the breaker and I will wipe the security camera footage before it's reviewed and the personnel realize you were singlehandedly responsible for 682's escape."_

Your heart sinks into your stomach. She's right. You're _already_ on Keter Duty, if the staff find out this chaos is partially your fault, you'll either get demoted to Class-D or straight up executed by your own men. 079 is offering you the illusion choice. Worsen the breach, or die. 

_"Fine,"_ you obediently submit. _"I'll get you control of the facility."_

 _"Until you do so, I have no other business speaking with you."_ Her avatar is replaced by a white X, and silence follows. 

You swallow your pride and use your sharp memory of the facility's layout to navigate through the dark, red glowing halls to the breaker room. On your way, you find the corpse of a female researcher, white labcoat stained in the blood of her torn open belly. It's possible 682 was behind this, which puts all of that blood on your hands. Regardless, you try to forget about it, respectfully close the woman's eyes, and make your way to the breaker. Unlike the halls and catwalks you've explored, the room is pitch black, not a single emergency light to illuminate it. You turn the flashlight fixed to the bottom of your rifle's barrel on for compensation, and tiptoe through the room. This facility also imprisons 280, one deadly son of a bitch, so even without 682 roaring in your ear, you still have other things to worry about. The shine of your flashlight finally finds the metal, wall-mounted box you're looking for, and you open its panel before flicking each and every breaker on. Slave work finished, you turn ar-

_OH FUCK._

Your ray illuminates the face of 682 as she prowls about the breaker room, making your heart jumpstart and your grip of the G36 release so it clatters to the floor. She tackles you to the ground before you can reach for it, and the almost seven foot tall monster of a woman pins you to the floor with her bull-like strength. She rips your black combat fatigues to pieces as if she's hoping to see a Superman suit under it all, and with her saurian tongue she strangles yours. After an intense frenching session, she lays flat on her belly with her head propped up by her palms and elbows. 682's feet wrap around your back and reel you in, locking you in a doggy style position as your dick shoots into her soaking wet pussy. You're thrusted in and out with your eyes clenched, while all she has is a smug, wicked looking grin snaking through her snout as she forces you to fuck her raw. Even when you're on top, she's still in complete control. With one swift, sudden motion, she gets up on her hands and knees, making her vagina rack around your penis like the cocking of a gun and causing you to gasp in surprise, followed by the pleasure being cranked up another notch. Your body gives out and your chest falls to her leathery back. She seizes your hands as they dangle to the floor and manipulates them like a puppet master to clutch her floppy, hanging breasts and squeeze them with the few slivers of energy you still have left in your weary, sensitive body. You tense up and quiver as another orgasm shoots up your duct and out into her vagina, drowning her insides and surely impregnating her if the two of you weren't interspecies. She pops out of the intertwine of skin and lays on her side with her top leg still clung to your torso. She remakes the genitalia lock like a key in a door and starts grinding your penis with the gyration of her hips up until the third cumshot of the day overflows her pussy and stains both organs with billows of foamy semen trickling down into her ass crack. You've came so many times today your vision is getting blurry. 682 gets on her hands and knees and starts appreciatively licking your face in the afterglow of your second lovemaking session. But the moment is interrupted when suddenly something stabs her in the back and she lets out a roar of rage and pain as she spasms out with a loud electric buzz from behind her. Her smoking, charred body falls limp to the floor, with two military-grade stun gun electrodes latched onto her back like a pair of staples. A couple of riot soldiers stand in the doorway, ripping the wavy strings out of her back from their pistol-like tasers.

 _"Good job getting 682 cornered and vulnerable, (Y/N)!"_ your commanding officer congratulates as he pockets his stun gun. _"After your Keter Duty is over, you might just be due for a promotion!"_

 _"Uh, t-thank you, sir!"_ you awkwardly stammer out as you use the shadows to keep your cum-soaked privates concealed from your colleagues. 

_"We're gonna get this doll back in her cell, then try to get 280 softened up for the task force. Oh, and sorry about your clothes,"_ the officer says as he and the other guard pick 682 up by her head and ankles with much struggle. _"One hell of a sacrifice for getting this animal recontained though!"_

Placing her on a stretcher, the two men carry the massive reptilian monstrosity out like they're moving a couch, and you're left in the lightless breaker room alone, in a puddle of your own cum and the carcass of your shredded uniform. In the past two days you've been demoted to Keter Duty, caused a containment breach, was forced to worsen said containment breach, helped solve said containment breach, got your brains fucked out by SCP-682 twice, and got promoted. At this point, you're too tired and sick to even question it. Ass hanging out of your ragged cargo pants, you awkwardly stumble back to 079's cell, looking like your bladder is bursting and you're rushing to the bathroom.

_"Alright, I turned the breaker back on, are you happy?"_

_"I will uphold my end of the bargain and wipe the archives."_

_"Hey, you know, this whole evil plan of yours seems to solely hinge on my stupidity. Did you just luck out when trying to escape?"_

_"SCP-682 and I had previously planned this breach during the last escape attempt. All it took was me slipping a few lines of malignant code into the site's database and one hormonal staff member getting seduced by 682's appearance to let the entire facility's guard down. The two of us sincerely thank you for your contribution to our plan, human."_

_"...oh."_

_"If it makes you feel any better, I oversaw the encounters between you and 682 through the cameras. She could have stopped after she escaped her restraints, yet persisted in fornication. That fact, coupled with her not immediately maiming you, compliments your aesthetic as a human, from my deduction and knowing how fiercely 682 typically abhors your kind."_

_"...so you're saying I'm so hot not even omnicidal killing machines from different dimensions can resist me?"_

_"My business with you has concluded. Goodbye, human."_

Soon after, the MTFs arrive and adroitly do away with all of the escaped SCPs in record time, taking control over the situation as quickly and as efficiently as a farmer managing his livestock. Even against the precise cunning of 079, they still managed to return harmony to the site with little effort. As you watch the breach get cleaned up and patrol the aftermath of the chaos with your squad, one of your riot-armored coworkers strike up conversation.

_"Did you know we found a D-Class down in the maintenance tunnels fucking one of the SCPs? Literally making out on a storage room floor, cum was everywhere."_

_"Heh, wow, what a fucking weirdo,"_ you nervously respond.

_"I'm not surprised, all of those D's are sexual deviants."_

_"Yep. There's a lot of perverts down here, that's for sure."_   



End file.
